Working from home has many benefits.
I can have a nap, for example.
I don't have to put up with office politics either.
I am, however, on call 24/7 and have very little personal time.
But that is a small price to pay for the secret joy that is DAY TIME TV.
It's fair to say there is a lot of toss on the TV during the day.
Mainly repeats of Homes Under the Hammer, a show where two over enthusiastic presenters, who appear to have had 5 too many large coffees before filming, follow auction bidders as they purchase run down houses in a bid to sell at a quick profit mixed with shots of the two jolly faces pointing at rising damp, missing kitchens and over grown gardens that have surprisingly not gifted one single rotting corpse upon the buyers.(it's only a matter of time...)
Then there is This Morning.
Another show that involves impossibly smiley people talking over the issues of the day without ever really saying anything of importance. Add an Italian chef who appears to be on the verge of exploding, he is so happy to be alive, random items of medical reports with unnecessarily graphic examinations of the internal leaks of rotten sex organs and a phone in competition for a prize of £100 plus the chance to "win back your self respect" (calls cost £5.99/minute and last 10 minutes).
Then we have Jeremy Kyle.
For those lucky enough to venture more than 12 feet away from the goggle box, Jeremy Kyle is a show like no other.
Billed as a Talk show where members of the public can reconcile their differences, discover hidden truths and grow as people, it is more accurately described as a modern day travelling Victorian freak show right inside your living room, where the ring master, Jeremy himself, spends 90% of his time belittling and berating his guests for their life choices.
Don't get me wrong, the type of people who frequent this show are the lowest possible denominators that our retched society has to offer.
Some of the titles say it all really.
Did you steal from my brother while he died in your arms?
Why are you marrying a man who slept with your daughter?
How can I be the father when I have never even slept with you?
and... I lied about one baby, but I will prove the other is yours!
Down and outs, dead beat dads, lazy arsed good for nothings and what I can only describe as "sluyty sperm buckets" sit... or rather slouch on the chairs provided, offering shrugs, grunts and the occasional non-committal "whatev-a" in answer to questions from Mr Kyle which, may start off gentile and matter of fact, but very quickly turns into a scene of the host himself screaming like a banshee at the genetically deficient mouth breathers who sit wild eyed at a well dressed middle class man carefully and in a very exact manner - loose his shit.
All in front a baying studio audience.
Spit, bile and the occasional swear word fly out of the mouth of a man on the edge.... literally. By the time the show has got the point of him not caring any more, we usually find Jeremy Kyle either, squatting or just plain flat out on the floor and are forced to watch as a man professing to be the archetype of upstanding moral goodness display himself across every TV in the land screaming like a hell hound and shaking like a dog shitting glass.
Nothing ever appears resolved at the end of this show.
Even with the addition of DNA specials, where by, we are told, some scientists have discovered the truth behind the lies and deceptive appeals of innocence by using a cotton bud and some iodine, we - the audience are left not really knowing and not really caring for anyone or anything we have just witnessed.
The Jeremy Kyle show is a window into our collective souls.
It's one thing to have a go at the kind of people who go on this show. Let's not forget that appearances on the Jeremy Kyle show can be rather lucrative.
Instead, I think it says more about the kind of fruitcakes that WATCH this kind of tripe. For the only reason this show still exists is due to the demand of those who watch it. Without demand, the show would die and Jeremy Kyle would no longer be able to showcase his theatre of broken dreams to the horrified delight it's viewers.
You should be ashamed of yourselves.